


An Oath That We Can Keep: Evening

by estelraca



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29668878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: When Beau is injured on the battlefield, Yasha spends some time considering which would be more painful--stopping the relationship now, or potentially losing another love of her life.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: Purimgifts 2021





	An Oath That We Can Keep: Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enkelimagnus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/gifts).



> Part 2!

Beau rolls over, trying to find the most comfortable position to lie in. Magical healing is dope, but it doesn't fix everything right away. And even the things it _does_ fix right away, they don't always feel quite... right. They always feel a little bit brittle for a day or two, like her chi knows that something isn't natural about them.

Placing a hand to her chest, Beau feels at the skin there. Not a scar, this time. She's still figuring out when it scars and when it doesn't. It has something to do with how much of the healing is done magically and how _quickly_ it's done, she thinks. If it's done fast enough, if it's done slick enough, there's nothing there to remember the injury by later.

Not that she needs something to help her remember. Her own mind is good for that. Even when she's not spinning wild conspiracy theories with Veth, she's cataloging and correlating and putting pieces together. It's what the Cobalt Soul trained her to do, and Beau is _very_ good at listening. When she wants to, at least.

She turns over again, hand sliding up to her chest. There's a scar there, but she's had that one for a while. All the healers had done their damnedest that day, but it hadn't mattered. The damage had been so great...

Did she die today? She didn't ask Jester. She doesn't really want to know, anyway.

Turning over yet again, Beau opens her eyes, giving up on getting to sleep right now. Instead she turns her eyes to Yasha, who elected to take first watch.

The firelight plays over Yasha's hair, turning the white blood red, making shifting shadows out of the black. It limns her muscular arms, and Beau spends a moment just watching, glad of the show.

A glance over at Jester confirms that she's out, so Beau uses the opportunity to ease herself over to Yasha's side. “Hey there. Mind some company?”

Yasha turns to study her, and Beau could swear for a moment that there are tear-tracks on her face. Then she smiles, and Beau isn't certain. “I always like your company.”

“ _That's_ not true. No one _always_ likes my company. If they do, I'm not being annoying enough.”

“You couldn't be annoying enough to make me not love being with you.” Yasha speaks in her slow, quiet, hesitant way, and Beau feels her heart beating harder in her chest.

It shouldn't be possible to love someone so much. To _hurt_ so much at the sound of their voice, but in a _good_ way, a way you want to continue forever. “Copper for your thoughts?”

“Oh, I don't think they're worth that much.”

Beau narrows her eyes.

“I was scared.” The words are a soft whisper. “You fell, and I... I was so scared.”

Beau sighs, slipping her arm around Yasha and holding her tight. “It's all right. I would have been scared, too, but I was too busy being unconscious.”

Yasha's whole body tightens, a spring ready explode.

“I mean... that's not...” Beau is still not good at these conversations. She's better than she would have been, once upon a time. Once upon a time, she would have stumbled and flailed or just utterly refused to engage. But then there was Jester. And Fjord. And Caleb. And Veth. Eventually Caduceus, and she purposefully steers her thoughts away from her own wounds, keeping memories of another name locked deep in her heart. “I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to.”

“I know.” Yasha lowers her head, her eyes on the green grass at her feet rather than on the horizon. “You were just doing what you do. You were just charging to the front, punching as many monsters as quickly as you could. I know better than to expect anything else from you.”

“To be fair, you're usually right up front with me, punching just as hard. Well. Not punching. Pop-pop's not really your thing. Slashing, let's say. Dicing. Crushing. Crunching. Those are all good words for what you do to the enemy, and I love to see it.”

“I love to do it beside you. You have to know that I do, Beau.” Yasha's eyes rise, slowly, as though weights keep them tethered downward and she's fighting hard to raise them up. “But I... but this... I can't...”

Beau narrows her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“I love you.” Yasha's hand lashes out, grabbing Beau's and holding on tight. “I love you so much, and every day we have is precious. I love waking up next to you, and I love sleeping next to you, and I love keeping watch over you and giving you a chance to rest.”

“All of those sound like good things, so—”

“And I know what you need to do. I know that you need to be at the forefront of battles. I know that you need to be in control, and you need to be strong, and I love to see you do it, I really do. There's so much surety and grace in the way you move, in the way you use your body.” Yasha's free hand rises, trails across Beau's bicep before rising to cup her cheek.

They sit there for a moment, eye to eye, the places where there skin touches burning like fire.

“I love you, Beau.” Yasha leans forward, and their lips come together in a slow, burning kiss. It's something like their first kiss, and nothing like it at all. They know each other. They know what the other wants. There isn't the awkwardness of figuring each other out, of determining how much pressure or tongue is too much.

They know each other.

They kiss like the practiced lovers they are.

“I love you.” Yasha pulls back, her voice strangled. “But I don't know if I can survive this, and I'm trying to figure out if that means I should call the whole thing off.”


End file.
